


Let It Snow

by kisahawklin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:25:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A semi jackknifes in the middle of a snowstorm, stopping traffic for <i>hours</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheMostePotente](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMostePotente/gifts).



> Just a bit of meet cute and huddling for warmth for themostepotente for spn_j2_xmas. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

Dean pulls the car to a stop. He'd been driving carefully, taking the interstate because it's brined when they know a massive snowstorm is coming, but even so, shit happens. 

He has no idea what the delay is, but it's probably a wreck, some dumb bastard trying to go too fast in the middle of a full-on blizzard. He puts the car in park, leaving it idle for now. He's been keeping the tank full, and he's got a good three-quarters left, no need to worry just yet. 

He gets to know his neighbors, checking out the truckers in their big rigs and regular folks in their cars and trucks as they all shift in closer, antsy to be on their way. It's a mix, really. There are people that are railing against the injustice of it all, folks that are resigned to the wait, and a couple of zen motherfuckers just enjoying the hell out of having an excuse not to get wherever it is they're going. 

It takes about half an hour for the creeping forward movement to stop, the snow coming down the whole time, heavy, wet flakes that melt on the windshield but are making a nice little bank on the left hand side of the road. He turns Baby off then, getting out of the car and grabbing the sleeping bag and blankets, water bottles, and emergency rations out of the trunk. He'd just freshened them all up when he'd heard about the oncoming storm. There was no way to get out of driving, but he wasn't going to get stuck with stale snacks and no warm blankets.

He turns Baby on every ten minutes or so, when the chill starts to creep in, making sure to keep an eye on the gas tank. 

After an hour, he really settles in. It's bad, his phone tells him – a jackknifed semi, and they haven't seen a single emergency vehicle, much less the tow trucks and special equipment they're going to need to clear the road. 

He's watching an old Twilight Zone episode when he hears a knock on his window. He looks up to see one of the guys that had been railing at the universe when Dean inched up beside him an hour ago. His old Continental is a few cars behind the Impala now, and Dean rolls down the window. 

"Hey man, what's up?"

It's a guy in a suit and (completely inappropriately for the weather) a trench coat with bedhead and bright blue eyes that grab Dean's attention.

"I apologize upfront for asking," the man says, somehow looking contrite even though his body language still says _completely pissed off at everything_ , "but I'm nearly out of gas. I don't suppose…"

"Say no more, brother," Dean says, feeling magnanimous. He rolls the window up and shoves the door open, bunching up the blankets so there's room for the guy on the seat.

"Thank you," he says, doing some contortionist thing as he sits down, taking off the trench coat and rolling it in on itself to keep the wet off the upholstery. Not that the vinyl needs that, but Dean appreciates the gesture.

The guy throws the khaki ball in the back seat. "I was going to get off at the next exit to get gas, but obviously…" He raises a hand to indicate the mess in front of them.

"No problem," Dean says. "I've been gearing up for this storm for days." He pauses, trying to straighten out the blankets so they're not all bunched up. 

"I'm Castiel," he says, holding out a hand.

"Dean." They shaking firmly and Dean's left wondering about the weird name. "My car is your car. You want a blanket?"

Castiel looks embarrassed and annoyed in equal measure, and Dean works out one of the fuzzy blankets from under the sleeping bag and hands it over. "Here," he says, "this one is nice and warm already."

~~~

They settle in, Dean leaning across the seat to share the iPhone and its collection of TV he's behind on and apparently that Castiel has never seen. They trade off holding it up until Dean jury-rigs a holder from the now-empty box of Wheat Thins. 

His battery dies suddenly, though maybe there was a warning in there somewhere, but he hadn't really been paying attention because he'd somehow ended up leaning against Castiel and throwing the sleeping bag over them both. But now there's no distraction left and Dean frowns as he knocks the phone off its stand and onto the dashboard. 

"Shit," he says, sighing heavily. The charger is packed in his bag in the trunk because he's a damn _moron_ and now he's going to have to go out in the cold to get it. He starts to lift himself off Castiel, but Cas grabs his arm to keep him from disturbing their little nest.

"Wait," Cas says, his fingers digging in. "Get it later. I'm too cozy to have to warm all this up again."

"Okay," Dean says, though he doesn't know what the hell they're going to do now. And it's definitely not think about how nice a warm Cas smells (not Castiel anymore, and he wonders when that switched over in his head). 

"So, Dean," Cas says exaggeratedly, talking softly because his mouth is right next to Dean's ear, and _holy shit_ how had Dean not noticed that before now? "What brings you out in the middle of a blizzard?"

Cas finishes the sentence with a "hm?" that's soft and intimate, just loud enough for Dean to hear, as if there was someone else in the car to keep it secret from.

Dean laughs at himself, a low chuckle that makes him smile. "My brother's wedding. It's this weekend, in California, and I would've left earlier, but I couldn't get the time off."

"Hmm," Cas says, and when he speaks next, Dean can hear the smile in his voice. "You're a very good brother, Dean."

"Thanks," Dean says, not rising to the bait because he and Sam are a subject he doesn't talk to anybody about, and especially not strangers he picked up in a snowstorm. "What about you? What got you out in this storm so unprepared?"

"My daughter," Cas says, the shift from amused to plaintive palpable in the breath skating over Dean's face. "I…" He hesitates, and Dean can feel his heart clench up for the guy in the halting space between his words. Cas clears his throat. "Her mother… left. She's been on her own for weeks, and she didn't call…" Cas clears his throat again. "She probably wouldn't have even today except the bank gave her an eviction notice. Apparently the mortgage hasn't been paid for months and they're foreclosing."

"Ah, jeez," Dean says, risking a slight turn of his head, trying to meet Cas's eyes. "I'm sorry, Cas."

Cas turns to look at him, much closer than Dean was expecting for some reason, despite the fact that his breath had been tickling Dean's ear not a minute ago. 

"Cas?" Cas's chuckle seems to indicate that he doesn't mind the nickname, and he's smiling, which is good, and then Dean sees the exact moment that it hits Cas that he's cuddled up with Dean in a car, the two of them twisted together under blankets pretty inappropriately for two guys who just met. 

Cas's gaze goes down to Dean's mouth, and Dean's heart kicks up, the whole situation wildly out of control, but not in a way Dean's particularly uncomfortable with. Cas's eyes flick back up to Dean's eyes, and there's definitely heat there, enough that Dean doesn't think twice when he pushes himself up the extra inch and a half to meet Cas's mouth. 

Cas exhales a noise against Dean's lips, something surprised but not negative, and Dean untangles himself enough to shift onto his side so he's can get a little leverage. He gets himself turned around so he's facing the right way, using the balls of his feet to shove himself up along Cas's body, his knees on either side of Cas's leg, digging into the front seat. 

Cas lets out a little moan, slipping down the seat until his crotch is snug against Dean's thigh and rolling his hips to drag the bulge in his pants along Dean's leg. 

"Fuck," Dean says, leaning into it and looming over Cas, pressing down just enough to give Cas something to rut against. Cas returns the favor, twisting himself into Dean, his hipbone dragging sweetly against Dean's cock. 

Dean picks up the kiss from where they left it, gasping for air as their bodies figured out how to fit, and their mouths do the same, their tongues tangling together the same as their legs, pushing into each other. 

Dean hasn't come like this in years, all rubbing and no skin, but damn, Cas squirming under him is hot, and before he knows it, he's jizzing in his pants like a teenager, breathing hot and wet into Cas's mouth, Cas's tongue still trying to coax his into playing. 

Dean goes along, fumbling a hand between them when it registers that Cas hasn't come yet, and it only takes the slightest touch of Dean's fingers to Cas's cock before Cas goes off, making a mess of his dress shirt but somehow completely missing his pants. 

Cas breathes open-mouthed against Dean's cheek for a minute, just long enough for the aftershocks of his orgasm to die down, and then he moves back in, kissing Dean again, more leisurely now, but with no less heat.

"Mmm," Dean says after a moment, when the strain of holding himself up over Cas becomes too much. "Hang on a minute, Romeo, we gotta take care of your…" He waves a hand up and down Cas's body to indicate _everything_.

Cas pulls away enough to look down, giving Dean a cockeyed sort of grin. "Wow," he says, pulling the shirttails out of the back of his pants and wriggling around until he's out of his dress shirt. "I'll have to stop for a new one before I get to Illinois." He throws the shirt over the seat, landing it right on top of the balled up trench.

Cas shivers, and Dean pulls off his jacket, stuffing Cas into it despite his protests. "You're in a t-shirt thin enough to be a negligee," Dean says, pulling it tight over Cas's undershirt. "Don't complain."

Cas smiles with his off-kilter grin and just says, "Thanks." It sounds sincere. 

"You're welcome," Dean says, pulling off his flannel and then his t-shirt and using it to clean himself up. He tosses it in the back with Cas's discarded clothing and puts the flannel back on. 

He's on his knees on the front seat, still sort of entangled with Cas, but before he can sort out where to move to, the red of brake lights comes through the fog that's taken over the windshield. He leans forward to wipe a hand through the condensation and hears as much as sees the semis turning their engines on. "Huh," he says, sitting back on his heels. "Think we're gonna start moving."

Cas's grin fades, and he plucks at the sleeve of Dean's jacket, starting to contort himself to get out of it. 

"No, man, keep it," Dean says. He can't have the guy freezing to death when he stops for gas. 

Cas takes a deep breath, apparently to say something, and then changes his mind, pulling his wallet out of his pants. Dean's about to make a nasty comment about not being that desperate when Cas asks, "Got a pen?"

He roots around in the glove compartment and finds one that's probably older than he is, which Cas takes and uses to carefully write an address and phone number on the back of a business card.

"Stop by and pick it up on your way home?" he asks, and Dean takes the card, staring down at the neat handwriting for a moment before surging forward to kiss Cas.

"Yeah," Dean says. "See you in a week."

"Until then," Cas says, making a break for the door. Dean glances up at the traffic through the windshield, red lights steadily coming on up the line, and Cas slams the door shut before Dean can yell at him to take his clothes from the back seat. 

"Until then," Dean says, watching Cas in the rear view mirror. He wonders what the hell he's going to tell Sam when he asks how the trip was.

~~~


End file.
